


Dark Colts

by MonoclePony



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Gen, I really don't know, Levi swearing like a fishwife, Levi's Past, M/M, This came to me very late at night, backstories, fanchar being a douchebag, good ol' male bonding, li'l bit of gay, rectifying said douchiness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-31
Updated: 2014-02-26
Packaged: 2018-01-10 17:00:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1162252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonoclePony/pseuds/MonoclePony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When 14 year old street thug Eifa is captured by the Military Police and held on two accounts of murder, he has a choice: death, or recruitment into the Recon Corps. Choosing the fate that gives him an opportunity at survival, Eifa is enlisted into the 104th Training Squad, there to meet a bunch of innocents and misfits. If he passes the training, he will be accepted into the Recon Corps- if he fails, he will be sent back to the Capital to die. He has to learn, and learn fast; with the help of his squad mates, he might just be able to accomplish it.</p><p>Meanwhile, Levi is plagued by nightmares of his past and present. He sees himself in the angry, wild Eifa, and isn't convinced that it's a good thing. The thread that ties the two together is one he wants cut as quickly as possible, but with Eifa in pursuit of a place on Levi's territory, it seems unlikely that the ghosts will ever evade him...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So this came to me whilst I was in a slump for my own writing, and though I tried to ignore it I eventually gave in and started writing it down. And now, well...I like it. I think. Anyway. 
> 
> I'm hopefully gonna write more of this, but we'll see. Fan characters aren't usually my thing either, so bear with me whilst I try to get him as little of a Mary Sue as possible. :)

The night had come to the inner district early, the darkness seeping across the sky like an ink blot on parchment, and the chill that swept through the streets was increased tenfold by the grim drizzle of rain that soaked a man to his bones before he even realised. The rain gradually increased to a steady downpour. It hissed over roofs and bounced off the cobbles, and in its ferocity a cry of alarm was muffled. A side street’s rainwater began to trickle towards a drain in a steady stream, but a darker liquid soon accompanied it, diluting in its journey but nevertheless there. The side street was bleeding.

The culprit had ducked under the safety of an old inn for shelter, shivers wracking his body as he turned to peer out into the impending night. His cloak fended off the worst of the rain, but its fabric was becoming damp and heavy. He was paying little attention to his own condition; his eyes were trained on the street’s entrance, heart thudding in his chest as he waited. There was bound to be a patrol scheduled soon- it would only be a matter of time before they noticed the blood. Damn rain. Damn blood. Damn everything. The figure lifted his head to the sky. His eyes narrowed. The birds were flying again, even in the horrid weather. It seemed like nothing would stop them escaping the cage. He let out a sigh, and glanced back at the atrocity he had committed.

A man was sprawled before him, glazed eyes staring sightlessly up the remainder of the street. It was so dark that someone might have walked past him and thought him a mere drunk or delinquent; the giveaway, unfortunately, were the two clean stab wounds blossoming his lifeblood onto the ground. He was still warm. He had been alive less than five minutes ago. With caution, the figure stooped over the body, head tilted like an animal surveying a kill. “I don’t make a habit of killing people, you know,” he said to the prone form. His voice was dry with misuse, though heavily accented. “I want you to remember that. I want you to know that you brought this on yourself. You backed me into a corner, and that never ends well.” 

_Was it the shock that killed him?_ The figure found himself wondering. _Or was it the blood loss? I never knew there was so much blood in a man. God… God there’s so much._ Was the heart still straining, still fighting to exist as its owner lay haemorrhaging? God, did the guy have a family? The thought was too much for him. He dropped to his knees and with a groan emptied the contents of his stomach beside the body of the man he had killed. This was his apology. He rasped and shuddered, trying to bring himself back to normal, when he suddenly heard a voice. His head jerked up.

“Is there someone down there?” the voice broke through the rain like a dagger. The figure scrambled to his full height and remained still, scarcely daring to breathe.

“There’s a curfew in place, you know. We have to treat anyone we find skulking about this time of night as hostile, understand?”

Oh, he understood. He spared a glance for the prone figure and tried to repress the dry humour that began to well up inside of him.

_Once they see this they’ll know I’m pretty damn hostile._

“You sure you’re not hearing things, sir?” he heard a soldier ask his superior at the mouth of the street.

“Don’t you dare doubt me, you incompetent oaf!” The original voice snapped. “Get down there, you coward.”

The figure stilled his breathing. He backed against the wall of the inn, certain that his fevered pulse was going to give him away. He shut his eyes, trying to keep calm as the footsteps of the soldier got closer and closer.

_Thud. Thud. Thud._

His eyes flickered beneath his lids. A member of the Military Police no doubt, his thoughts far away from the matter at hand. None of the Military Police gave a damn anymore. After the previous night’s Titan scare, their attention had sharpened slightly, and the figure cursed his luck.

_Thud. Thud. Thud._

He was getting closer. He would soon catch sight of the body. The figure’s breath hitched. He had to make a decision. If he stayed here, he’d be discovered in another _thud_ of the soldier’s boots. If he ran, he would be chased.

_Thud. Thud._

“Hey, I think someone’s collapsed over here!” he called over his shoulder.

The figure’s eyes snapped open. The stony blue was dead and bottomless, and as he shifted to glance at the shape of the man as he turned back to his comrades he stepped forward. His pulse was now perfectly steady. His eyes narrowed, sizing up his opponent. There was no way in Hell he’d be able to take him fairly; there was nothing for it. It was now or never. And as he stepped out of his hiding place and brought a knife slicing across the unsuspecting soldier’s throat, all he could think of was: _Fuck, I’m for it now._


	2. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we have a Levi-centric chapter, snark and all.

The sun hadn’t yet risen over the world. The sky was a bruised sort of colour, one that awaited the arrival of morning but wasn’t sure when it would come. Birds were only just beginning to sing, and there was no sign of life on the roads except for a small convoy moving east. Every man and beast travelling along the beaten path was exhausted. Their destination was the Military training ground, already a large shape smeared against the dawn. They had left when it was still dark, and moved with silent fatigue. Dark crescents fell under each man’s eyes, and they were most prominent on the smaller of the group in the front. The man sat tensely on his horse, eyes glazed over with the sharp desire for sleep, yet his body willed him to remain awake. He wasn’t usually so careless, but the lack of sleep was playing havoc on his reactions.

“Levi.”

The sound of his name roused him from his drowsiness. His eyes seemed to sharpen as they flicked to the man beside him, his superior. The travel had even affected the great Erwin Smith, commander of the Recon Corps and youngest in a decade, and as Levi grew more alert he noticed that his usually well kept blonde hair was ruffled and coarse, as though he had been forced to drag his hands through it to keep from sleep. His usually cold eyes betrayed a hint of concern as they focused on his face, and Levi scoffed quietly. “I’m fine.”

“You didn’t sleep last night.” It was a statement, not a question, and Levi felt a twinge of annoyance at that.

“I slept perfectly well,” he said. He wouldn’t usually dignify him with a response, but the concern had caught him off-guard.

“Don’t lie to me, Levi.” Erwin’s eyes narrowed. “Dreams again?”

Levi didn’t reply to that. He glared down at his hands, tensing them on the reins. He regretted even mentioning them to Erwin. It had been forced out of him, really, and with good reason; when the Lance Corporal wakes up thrashing and shouting in a tongue no one recognises in the dead of night, it’s cause for concern. Word got around to Erwin. Levi had to explain. He huffed and turned away from him, looking instead out towards the vast forest they were skirting. A lot of the land was covered in forest now, and the smell of pine was fresh in the air.

“Levi.”

The word sounded forceful now. Levi returned his gaze to Erwin obediently. “There’s no need to concern yourself with my business, Erwin,” he said.

“I want to concern myself with your business,” was Erwin’s reply. “I may be your superior, but I am also your friend. I wish you would talk.”

Levi’s expression didn’t change. “There is nothing to talk about. I get nightmares. It’s expected, with what we do. It is not unusual.”

“They’re clearly upsetting.”

“No shit,” Levi sighed.

Erwin gave up for the moment. Their horses walked alongside each other steadily, blowing hard through their nostrils and letting clouds of air drift into the sky. The cart behind them rattled on, loaded with supplies for the trainees. Levi cast a look behind him to make sure, but seeing that the cart was still very much there turned back, mentally forcing himself to shake off his tiredness.

He had dreamed of Titans again. Their bloated bodies reached for him, the mirthless grins on their faces giving way to crushing teeth and boiling stomachs. He was on his own in the dreams; he was always on his own. He could never find anyone to help him, even though he would shout for them. Calls would go unanswered, he would be swept off his horse like it was made of straw and he would be crushed in a Titan’s malicious embrace. Then he would wake, cursing and screaming in his mother tongue and covered in sweat. He closed his eyes, for a moment, but the ghost of the dream returned, wispy and shadowed, and he snapped them open again. _A grown man should not be getting nightmares, no matter what I say to Erwin,_ he thought furiously.

“I’m surprised, you know.”

“Hmm?” Levi was jolted out of his thoughts by Erwin’s voice.

“I thought you’d object to coming here with me,” Erwin said. “After all,” he added with a smile, “you’re not a fan of kids.”

Levi snorted. “I don’t care for untamed colts. The brats that come here don’t know what they’re up against. They’re cocky without reason.”

“You were a cocky brat once, too.”

Levi let a smirk wriggle free. “I still am, as many of the higher-ups constantly inform me.”

Erwin smiled at that. The convoy picked up the pace as the sun peaked over the mountainous horizon. Titans tended to be more active during the day, after all, though none were usually seen this far from the Wall. Erwin nudged his horse into a trot, and Levi’s mare followed suit, matching her ivory partner stride for stride. “I’m glad you came along,” Erwin said. “It was either you or Hanji, and you know how much she irritates Shadis.”

“Hanji irritates everyone,” Levi muttered.

“She means well. And I’m sure you like her, deep down.” Erwin chuckled. “We can also take this opportunity to have a look at the crop of new recruits. We might even find some that are willing to join up of their own accord this year.”

 “You know there are only two kinds of people who choose to join the Recon Corps, Erwin: those who want to be heroes, and those who know they’re dead anyway.”

Erwin’s smile fell at his words. The pair shared a glance, a question: _if that’s true, then what are we? Heroes of humanity, or just suicidal?_

The unspoken reply hovered above them as they continued onwards, the creak of leather and rolling hooves the only remaining noise on the path. Levi dared not to look at Erwin again, and focused on the towering fence that awaited them. It had been a while since he had stepped inside those walls, and it had not been a good experience. He tightened his grip on the reins and tried to compose himself. The journey had been tough on him, and there was no need to cause a scene here. People were wary of him; he exuded some sort of aura that ordered people to leave him alone, and when they didn’t he would do anything to get out of a corner. Erwin was aware of that, and Levi was sure he was going to be warned not to give Shadis a reason to be angry.

The gates opened as soon as the lookouts saw the group riding towards them. Erwin’s pale gelding cut a ghostly shape in the mellow morning, and on recognising him the lookouts saluted. Levi tutted.

“They wouldn’t bother if it was just a simple convoy,” he said wryly.

Erwin looked amused. “It’s called being polite,” he said, the corners of his mouth tilting up in a smile.

Levi tutted again. “It’s called following orders blindly, and you know my feelings about that.”

“I’d ask you to behave, but I don’t think there’s any point, is there?”

Levi smirked as they walked under the watchful eyes of the lookouts. “Not remotely.”

The inside of the training grounds looked as it had years ago. Nothing had changed; not even the large chalets they used as dorms and dining halls for the recruits. The grass was so short it was scarcely there at all, and as they tethered their horses and dismounted Levi was distinctly reminded of a prison camp. They were met by a fresh-faced youth barely out of training himself who informed them that Keith Shadis was waiting for them in his office. Erwin nodded, a polite smile adorning his face, before he followed him. Levi remained by his side, shooting glances around the place as he did so. He felt more alert now; the dreams hadn’t rid him of that feature. The place seemed deserted; there were no trainees to be seen, not even standing out at the porches of the chalets. They hadn’t arrived yet, he realised.

The doors opened to admit them, and Shadis was stood waiting for them. He was a formidable bear of a man, full of a fire that was ready to be crackled at the new trainees, and as he cast his fierce gaze on the two Levi felt himself recoiling. He was a man who had seen things he was ashamed of, and though it was a common thing of late, Levi couldn’t help but feel that Shadis had seen more of Hell than anyone else.

Erwin saluted him solemnly, and after a sharp look from him Levi did the same. “Commander Shadis,” he said.

“I’m hardly a Commander now, Smith,” Shadis said. The gesture made him smile though, even if it was thin and full of little emotion. “You flatter me.”

Erwin smiled. “Old habits die hard. It’s good to see you.”

“And you. Command appears to suit you. You always were the prodigy of my squad.” Shadis’s eye then fell upon Levi. He felt his hackles rise. “This must be your old project, Erwin. Levi, is it?”

He glared at him. “That is correct.”

Shadis made a noise of affirmation in the back of his throat. “Well. I’m to gain command of my new projects today. The 104th Training Squad- a bunch of reckless little teenagers that need to be ground into the dust before they can be built into soldiers. Still, the first day is always the hardest.” He glanced at Erwin. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I wanted to discuss something with you privately, if you don’t mind, sir.”

“Of course. Follow me.”

They walked down a narrow corridor, Levi close to Erwin’s side and trying to ignore the feeling of immense distaste he had for the training instructor. Shadis had not been the one to train him- there had been little left to train in his case- but something about him jarred past memories into returning to the surface…

_He’d been thrown to the floor for the third time before someone had the heart to speak up._

_“Leon, stop! You’re gonna kill him!”_

_He was spitting out his own blood, cowering on the floor and overwhelmed with pain as his tormentor stood above him. He opened an eye and hissed something unintelligible, which only earned him another kick to the ribs. He rolled over with the impact and led there clutching his side, breath coming in short gasps. Everything hurt. Everything screamed. He could taste the blood at the back of his throat. He was pretty sure he’d lost a tooth._

_“He has to learn!” the man above him snarled. “He has to learn to take pain!”_

_“He won’t learn if he’s dead!”_

_“Shut up, this doesn’t concern you!” A boot descended on his chest and he grunted in pain. “You’ll learn, won’t you Levi?” The voice was eager, breathless and exhilarated with the thrill of violence. “You’ll be my feral champion in no time, won’t you?” it said, its happiness giving way to more beating…_

Levi shook himself. He hadn’t thought of Leon for a long time. It seemed like another lifetime ago that he had been nothing more than a shadow in the dense underworld behind the Wall. Everything was about cunning back then; it was needed in order to survive. The only thing he could do to anger the Military Police was to continue to live; it was the ultimate defiance in a way, a man like him refusing to die. From day to day he had had to wonder whether he would be caught or killed, or escape by the skin of his teeth and live to see another sunrise. Some things, he realised, never changed. His work in the Recon Corps was merely a more organised way of life or death.

Erwin asked him to remain outside the room and he did so willingly, not wanting to be in Shadis’s company for any longer than was needed, and contented to lean against the door of his office. There was a convenient window that opened out onto the yard, and Levi watched with little interest as the day made its arrival known.

He didn’t know how long he stood there, but it was long enough for his mind to wander and the fatigue of the night to steal back into his mind, numbing his senses to an extent and leaving his mind susceptible to wandering. He successfully managed to shut away any further thoughts of Leon and instead thought about his squad. Would they even be awake right now, knowing that their commander was away? Probably not, was the conclusion he came to. Petra might be, and maybe even Eld or Gunther. But Oluo? Definitely not. He was probably still snoring in his bunk whilst Petra demanded he get out of bed and help with the chores. He caught himself smiling at the thought. He let it fall. He could not become too fond of them, that he knew; they could be taken from him in moments, snatched out of the air by grubby hands and eager mouths. He swallowed painfully. He knew all this, and yet he couldn’t ignore the fact that they were under his command, his charge. They were almost a family now, and he knew that he would do everything in his power to protect them.

The door suddenly opened behind him, and he turned to see both men emerge from the office. “Sorry we kept you,” Erwin said. “We had a lot to discuss.”

Levi waved his apology away. “Are we leaving now?” he asked.

“Depends. Are you hungry? Shadis has offered us breakfast.”

“It’s the least I could do. It’s your reward, for making sure the carts got here safely,” Shadis said. His voice was brash, business-like, but the warmth was there despite it all. Levi found himself thawing a little.

“It was mere coincidence that the convoy was passing through, sir,” he said.

“Even so.” Shadis suddenly drew his attention to the window. “Ah, looks like the fresh meat’s here. We might have to postpone breakfast for a while.”

Levi followed his gaze, and saw a number of carts entering the grounds. The covers across them were tattered and old through years of use transporting the hopeful young souls to their fates, and the drivers of the carts seemed as sullen as the beasts that pulled them. “How old?” Levi inquired. He didn’t know why he was asking.

Shadis seemed a little wrong-footed by the question, but eventually answered, “trainees usually come to us at the ages of twelve or thirteen. Sometimes older.”

Levi didn’t let a flicker of emotion show on his face. Twelve or thirteen. They really were children. He had been sixteen when he had been taken. His naivety had already been trodden into the dirt by then. He began to walk towards the door without another word, his curiosity getting the better of him, and once he stepped into the bright sunlight it took a moment for his eyes to adjust.

The carts had now come to a stop, and the trainees already began to file out, blinking and cursing at the sun in a similar way to him. He felt his mood sour when he realised that he was probably only just taller than some of them, and they hadn’t even had their growth spurts. They were still fresh and innocent, their eyes not yet shadowed with the experience of Titans and their unpredictable natures. Some looked younger than others, and as they stood around looking slightly dazed from their long ride, Shadis took over. He strode from Erwin’s side and bellowed in a voice that matched his bear-like stance, “Get these maggots lined up for the hook, double time!”

Levi almost smirked at how quickly the teenagers scrambled to fulfil the order, many bumping into each other in their haste to get in line. He paid little attention to any one trainee in particular, his attention instead resting on a lone cart that drew in moments later, the driver looking even more annoyed than his predecessors. Shadis was just as curious as Levi, as it happened, and strode over to the driver. Their conversation was snatched away from listening ears, Shadis’s voice lowering to an almost inhuman whisper, and Levi frowned at Erwin. “Something wrong?”

“Nothing Shadis can’t handle.” Erwin looked back to the recruits. They were all primed at their edges, tense for the grilling that was sure to come. “They don’t look bad this year,” he commented.

“Mmm.”

“Try to sound more enthusiastic.”

“What’s the point? Half of them will be dead within a couple of weeks of graduating anyway.”

His words were spoken a little too loudly, as a few eyes flickered to his position. Complexions began to fade of colour. Levi sneered at them. He wasn’t like Erwin; he wouldn’t sugarcoat their futures for their benefit. The sooner they learnt to die, the better.

“Looks like we have a last-minute addition to our squad, ladies!” Shadis roared from his place by the new cart. Levi’s and Erwin’s gazes turned towards it out of curiosity, and saw that Shadis was gripping a wild haired youth by the arm. The youth in question seemed to be less than happy about it; he was struggling as best he could, given the fact that his wrists were chained together, and it seemed to take all of Shadis’s power to keep him from wriggling free. He had the look of a cornered beast about him; his movement was jagged, instinctive, and little snarls even dared to rip forth from between his bared teeth as he struggled vehemently against his captor and every movement was one away from the authority that gripped him. He was dressed in little more than rags, contrasting with the trainees’ new uniforms, and holes in his trouser leg yielded a flash of a very pale kneecap beneath. Had he been starved? Levi couldn’t be sure. Every now and again a flash of feral eyes could be seen beneath the lank dark hair the boy possessed, and they were always narrowed, always burning with anger. Levi frowned. That was all too familiar. “This worthless excuse of Titan fodder has volunteered to join our happy little family, isn’t that right street rat?” Shadis asked, directing his answer at the boy.

The struggles stopped for a moment, just enough for the boy to look up at Shadis and snarl, “go to Hell,” before he was thrown to the ground with some force. The trainees jumped.

“I don’t think I heard you correctly!” Shadis barked. “I thought I heard you say ‘yes, I want to be useful for the king instead of being hanged like the dog I am’!”

“The King can kiss my ass.” This earned him a kick in the ribs. He curled in on the impact, hissing.

Levi found himself walking towards them, his eyes narrowed. “Levi, don’t get involved,” Erwin muttered, but Levi ignored him. He usually listened, but not this time.

He strode over with purpose, ignoring the way Shadis glared at him, and stood before the youth, looking him over with a critical eye. Something about him seemed familiar, but he wasn’t sure what. He folded his arms. “What’s your name, brat?” he asked.

The youth steadily uncurled like a pupa from its cocoon, and looked up at him. He was greeted with a cold, calculating gaze that sent bolts of déjà vu deep into his stomach. His eyes widened a fraction. He knew that gaze well. The youth’s mouth curved into a leer. “Don’t I know you?” he asked in return. His voice had a familiar lilt to it, too.

“Answer the question.” Levi’s command was cold, emotionless, but his mind was beginning to spin.

“Is it of some value to you?”

Answering a question with another. Levi’s eyes narrowed. “You’re vermin. There is no value in your life or your name.”

“Well,” the youth smirked, “that’s really no incentive for revealing it then, is it?”

Levi’s lip curled. He unleashed a kick that hit the boy square in the stomach and left him winded in the dirt. A few trainees took in sharper intakes of breath. “Your name,” he ordered. When all he got was a glare in reply, he kicked him again. And again. And then again. He could feel the horrified stares of the trainees burning into his back, but he paid no attention to them. Some men responded to words- others to blows. The boy who lay sprawled in the dirt, spitting gobbets of blood onto the ground, had been taught to ignore everything but pain. So pain was what he would give.

He crouched down and grabbed the boy by the hair, pulling him up to his eye level like a rebellious weed. “Your. Name,” he repeated.

The boy spat out a tooth. “Eifa,” he said eventually.

Levi tilted his head to one side, assessing him quietly. “Eifa.” The name was alien on his tongue. He barely expected to know the boy personally; it had been years since he had set foot on his old territory. “I suggest that you pay attention to your instructor, Eifa,” he said. “He has a great deal to teach you, and you have a great deal to learn. Your first lesson is to respect your superiors.”

The now named Eifa glowered at him. “I’d rather die.”

“Then I kill you here.”

There was a flicker that passed in the boy’s eyes, and Levi was satisfied. He released him and rose to his full height, turning to Shadis. “Keep him away from the others. He’ll throttle them in their sleep if he feels like it,” he muttered. “And cut his hair, it’s filthy.” He then shot a glare to the assembled group, daring them to cross him, before walking back to Erwin wordlessly.

He opened his mouth to suggest that they skipped the breakfast when a voice spoke up. “Levi.” He stiffened. He turned back to see Eifa, now on his feet and staring at him. One eye was visible through the mass of hair. “That’s who you are. Levi.” He kept silent. He watched, paralysed, as Eifa’s mouth split into a dry smirk. “ _Khie'yen_ ,” he sneered.

Levi felt the colour drain from him. His mouth drew into a fine line, and he whirled back to face Erwin. “Let’s go.”

“What does he mean?” Erwin asked, looking from Levi to Eifa with a curious frown. Levi gritted his teeth; Erwin getting suspicious would prove a further problem.

“Erwin.” Levi’s expression darkened. “Let’s go.”

Erwin hesitated, but nodded and turned away from both Shadis and the youth. “Will you tell me later?” he asked as they walked past the line of recruits.

Levi rolled his eyes. “Yes,” he lied. He had no intention of doing so.

Because the fourteen year old boy had just called him something in a language long since dead, a language he knew well.

Eifa had called Levi a traitor.


	3. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Eifa makes 'friends' with Shadis, and Levi talks to his horse and thinks back to the good old days of broken glass bottles and telling Captains where to go in a language they don't understand. :D
> 
> Split narrative here, still toying with a few bits. Levi's thug vocabulary is a tad colourful, think I may have overdone it a tad but hell I like swearing as much as the next person!

The trainees stared after the retreating men in stunned silence. No one dared formulate a sentence, for fear of Shadis shouting them down, but every recruit was more on edge now than they ever had been before. The violence seemed unprecedented and unneeded to them; the way the smaller officer had struck the criminal like a machine terrified them into silence. The collective thought from them all was clear, however: everyone was asking, ‘ _Who the hell was that?’_

The only person who knew was still knelt in the dust, coughing up what felt like an entire organ. Eifa strained for breath, the metallic taste in the back of his throat sickening yet familiar, but he had gotten the reaction he’d wanted. Levi’s companion couldn’t see it, but Eifa knew a worried man when he saw one. And the look the man he knew as Levi had given him before he walked away was one of sheer panic. Eifa couldn’t help smirking at the thought.

“What are you smiling at, get up!” Shadis shouted, swinging out his leg to give him a last kick for good measure, but this time Eifa was too fast. He rolled clear of the boot and shakily got to his feet, clearing the blood congealed at the corners of his mouth with the back of his hand. The chains restricted his movement somewhat, it was true, but it at least afforded him more liberty than he had had in the cells in the Inner City. “Get in line with the others,” Shadis snarled, pointing viciously at the assembled group. “And if there’s any shifty business, I won’t hesitate in having you shot.”

Eifa gave him a look of pure venom, but did as he was told. He moved slowly, not wanting to betray just how much his body was screaming at him from its treatment at the hands of Levi. The trainees turned their heads to him as he approached, wide eyed and slightly afraid, and he sneered at them. He was only a few years their senior, he reckoned, but that gave him an authority over them similar to Shadis. He looked at every worried face in turn, intrigue crossing his mind. What did they think of him? Did they think he would kill them, too?

“I said, into formation!” he heard Shadis bark behind him, and with a twitch he fell into line next to a taller than usual boy who, with one glance at Eifa, broke into a sweat. Eifa rolled his eyes. Still, anywhere was better than nothing.

Shadis broke into a speech about the glory of mankind and the intention he had of moulding them into the perfect soldiers to follow perfect orders. “If you ladies so much as looked at a Titan right now, you would be nothing but food for them! They would pick their teeth with your bones and leave the rest of you forgotten on some nameless ground. At the end of this, some of you might still only be good for nothing but Titan bait and fertiliser.” Here Shadis focused solely on Eifa, and he glared right back. “Others, however, might be the champions that humankind is looking to for a brighter future. Let’s hope you all fall into the latter category, shall we?”

Eifa looked down at his chains and rattled them absent-mindedly. There was one key difference between him and the trainees that surrounded him on every side; they all wanted this. They had left their homes and families to be here, and they were all more than willing to offer up their hearts to the king. He wanted no such thing.

Shadis had begun to move along the line now, shouting down some of the trainees and rendering them speechless in the blasts of insult and cursing. Eifa sighed. He expected this. It was the first stage of any training; breaking the person down completely, and then building them from the ground up. He watched as a small blonde boy was shouted into the ground simply for his name- Armin. Eifa figured it suited him, in some strange way. When Armin replied that his grandfather had given him the name, Shadis roared back at him that it was a stupid excuse for a name. Eifa tutted. “He’s really lacking source material,” he remarked to the open air. The trainee beside him gave a little jolt, as if he hadn’t expected him to talk, and Eifa shut his mouth with a snap.

“You! Who the hell are you?”

Shadis had moved on now, and this time his victim was a rather lanky sort of boy with the eyes of a thug but the casual stance of someone who was used to the smell of money. Eifa’s lip curled. The boy was an average sort of height, with mousey hair that gave way to a dark down underneath, but it was the way his brows drew together and a smile wormed its way to the surface when Shadis directed his attention onto him that Eifa paid attention to.

“Jean Kirstein,” was the boy’s answer. “From Trost,” he added as an afterthought, as if that answered the question more fully than a name. Perhaps the ‘Kirsteins of Trost’ were well known, Eifa thought. Trost was certainly a place higher up than Shinganshima, the place where this ‘Armin’ had said he’d come from.

Clearly, the name was lost on Shadis. “And what are you doing here?”

The boy hesitated for a moment, as though he was unsure of it himself. But finally he said, “I want to join the military police and live in the Interior, sir!” A simple enough statement, blunt and honest, and Eifa couldn’t help but smirk at the response. _Wish I could choose, ‘Jean Kirstein of Trost’. I’d be straight there too._

Shadis straightened up, brows drawn together at the response. “Oh, so you wanna live in the interior, do you?”

The boy grinned nervously. “Yessir!”

Eifa expected it. He was probably the only one that did. But Shadis took no time in delivering a swift kick to the unfortunate boy’s stomach. ‘Jean Kirstein of Trost’ fell in a heap to the ground, groaning. Eifa watched as Shadis leant over him and bellowed like a wounded animal, “Did I tell you to fucking kneel, shithead?” The boy whimpered softly in reply. “You think you can join the Military Police if you can’t even take _that_?” Shadis scorned. “They’ll do more than that to a little shit like you!” The boy stayed where he was, shaking in the dirt, and Shadis merely stepped over him like he was a felled tree in his path. He rounded on the slightly taller boy who was casting a sympathetic gaze onto his companion on the floor.

“Don’t fucking look at him! And who the hell are you? What are you doing here?” he demanded.

The boy stood to attention immediately, the look of concern for the boy beside him vanishing in an instant. Eifa couldn’t help but feel for the boy; he was clearly not used to acts of brutality. That was going to change soon enough. He was dark haired, freckled, and with large brown eyes that seemed to shine with youth and innocence. Even in the face of the towering Shadis, he couldn’t prevent a polite smile from springing onto his face, even if it looked more like a grimace. “I’m Marco Bodt, sir!” he replied brightly. “I’m from the Southern Wall Rose town of Jinae, sir! I came here to join the Military Police and offer my body to the king!”

Shadis straightened at this, and for a moment he even looked mildly impressed. “Oh. What a patriot. You’ve got the right idea, kid.” Marco Bodt smiled a little more genuinely at that, as if he’d been dealt a real compliment. It faltered, however, when Shadis loomed closer. “But y’know, the King doesn’t want _you_ ,” he hissed. The boy gulped.

Eifa’s lip curled. “Ugh, please. He has the best excuse so far,” he muttered under his breath.

“What was that, street rat?!” Shadis snarled, abandoning his designs on the other recruit to turn on him. “Got something to contribute to the group?”

Eifa looked up at him defiantly. “No, _sir_. Nothing I’d bother gracing your fucking Holiness with.”

“I think you do. Introduce yourself.”

Eifa was tempted to refuse, but he glanced back to the still cowering boy and realised he probably couldn’t take much more of a kicking. He sighed, and met Shadis’s eye again. “My name is Eifa, I come from the Shadow City, and I’m a first class villain, apparently.” He even dared to smirk.

Shadis grabbed hold of his shirt and wrenched him close, so close that Eifa could smell the sweat on his brow. “You’re fucking chipper for your circumstance, you sack of shit,” he snarled.

Eifa grinned wolfishily. “Well, seeing as I just escaped a murder charge, I’m feeling fucking fantastic.”

“Is that so?” Shadis released him so violently Eifa overbalanced and fell to his knees, cursing. “You escaped nothing. You’re either going to end up in the stomach of a Titan or a shallow grave in the Interior’s prison. A few months will change nothing.” It was a flippant remark, one with little threat- the cold hard fact of the matter was crisp on his tongue.

Eifa seethed quietly. That was what everyone thought, it seemed. When the judgement had been passed in the courtroom a day earlier, he had thought that the whole room wanted him to be killed on the spot for the sheer inconvenience it had caused them. He stood tearing his wrists against the shackles as the judge droned out his verdict; he would enrol in the training program, and if he passed the final exam, he would be drafted automatically into the Recon Corps under the command of Erwin Smith. Then he would be somebody else’s problem, and a mere statistic waiting to be chalked up on the list of the dead. He flinched away from the thought. He opened his eyes again, his breathing laboured, and he replied coldly, “I am not going to die.”

Shadis paused. He looked at him then, and really looked. Eifa kept his gaze steady, though his entire body seemed to rise and fall with each breath. He saw something spark in the Commander’s eyes. “So you believe,” he said, voice clogged with thought. Then he snapped. “Aubrey! Fallon! Get this piece of shit a uniform, and put him in isolation. I’ve had enough of rats for one day.”

Eifa paid no attention to the hurried footsteps that followed Shadis’s order, nor did he care that he had to be helped to his feet. His battered body was beginning to fail him, and he clenched his teeth in an attempt to stave off the whimper he was sure was going to rise to the surface. He felt a pair of eyes burning against his shoulder, and jerked his head around to see that the freckled boy was staring at him. His eyes were larger than ever. They almost seemed… sorry. As though he was apologising on Shadis’s behalf. Eifa thrust his chin out defiantly and sent him a glare that made the eyes dart away before he was given a hefty shove in the opposite direction. He let a growl slip past his lips but complied. He walked slowly, stiffly, every movement sending a new muscle into fits of complaint, but he refused to succumb to them whilst being flanked by Shadis’s men. Though he knew the eyes on him had flown the moment the boy was ware he was noticed, he could feel them back in the centre of his back, burning yet more holes in his ruined shirt.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The sun was high in the sky by the time Levi and Erwin returned to the base of the Recon Corps. The old castle looked more tired than ever as they dismounted and removed the saddles from their horses’ backs. Levi managed his with a grunt of effort, but for Erwin it didn’t take as long. They then led their horses to the stables, and Levi glanced up at the castle once more. The images of great banquets and feasting that were sure to have taken place within its stone walls seemed ridiculous to even consider now. It was a building of strategy and planning; no such festivities would be held here again.

Erwin handed his horse over to one of his subordinates, but Levi pushed past the hands offering to take his mare’s reins. He rarely let anyone put his horse away; he felt that a relationship needed to be struck, and leaving the main jobs to others made such a bond difficult to forge. He needed to trust his mount, especially as she was one thousand pounds’ worth of flighty horseflesh that was not only vastly bigger than he was, but also far more unpredictable.

The stable gave off the constant aroma of hay and equine sweat, and Levi wrinkled his nose at it slightly. It wasn’t filth, exactly- it was almost a comforting smell- but it was a strong smell nevertheless, and it assaulted his nose so much he sneezed. “Stupid hay,” he cursed as he led his horse on, past a few occupied stalls where their occupants snoozed or pulled at their haynets casually. They didn’t cast him a single look. Sometimes he preferred the company of dumb animals- they tended to ignore him. They couldn’t judge, or comment.

He led his mare into her stall and slid the bolt back, securing them both inside. She pivoted around on her hind legs and looked expectantly at him, ears flicked forwards like small curls of charcoal. She had the movement of a dancer, her ebony coat still shining with youth and energy despite the strenuous journey, and was rather highly-strung. But she had her weaknesses…

“I know, don’t look at me like that,” he said, fishing something out of his pocket. “You know you’ll get your daily sugar, Leila. You’re getting too clever for your own good.” At the sight of the sugar the mare’s nostrils flared excitedly. Levi held it out calmly, palm flat and fingers twitching, enticing her closer. She took the steps that closed the gap between them without hesitation, eyes bright and lips fumbling for the treat in her rider’s hand. Levi smiled and began to unfasten the throat lash as she crunched the sugar cube to dust. “You’re lucky, you know. All you do is eat, shit and sleep, and sometimes carry a slight weight. You don’t have to worry about anything. I bet you can’t even remember what your own mother looks like.” The mare snorted. He made a soft snort of affirmation himself, and after undoing the noseband he took the bridle off from over her head, laying it across the top of the stable door. “You’re filthy,” he commented to her. The mare merely moved to get at her haynet, her tail smacking against her back legs. Levi scoffed and picked up a brush from the grooming kit he kept in the corner of the stall, brushing the dust free of it so that it hovered up around him like ancient glitter.

He set about brushing her in slow, forceful strokes, the dust and dirt from the road transferring to him instead. The mare continued to eat, turning her head to watch him on occasion, and every time the pair would share a look. There was silence in the stables, nothing except the shuffling of hooves and calm chewing of the animals surrounding him, and Levi allowed himself to think back to his encounter with the boy in the training grounds. He had blocked it from his thoughts on the journey back to save the questions of Erwin, but now he let the frown cross his face again. The sight of the boy in chains affected him in a way that no other trainee had managed to- he had gotten his attention. Maybe it was the anger that seemed to radiate off the boy in waves. If he was any other recruit Shadis would have passed him by. He would have known that he had seen Hell at some point in his short life, and that there was no need to break him further. The problem was, Eifa had been broken and shaped by someone else; he might never be fully loyal to the cause he was being trained in. He would fight until he could fight no longer. Levi realised he had stopped brushing. Shaking himself, he continued on, moving to her other side. He knew full well why Eifa had affected him so. That wild look, the feral and unbridled fury that he directed at anyone who tried to approach him… it was all familiar. Too familiar…

_“Get the fuck away from me!” He brought the glass bottle crashing against the wall behind him. It exploded in a series of shards and slivers, and the soldiers that had him penned in seemed to get a little more wary as they saw the way the blood dripped down his lacerated hand like beads of sweat. He didn’t even feel it. He gripped the neck of the bottle tightly, looking from one man to the next. He dared them to move. He dared them._

_The rain fell in a steady downpour between them, drenching them all to the skin, but he barely shivered. The long run had kept him warm, and though he was out of breath and exhausted, his anger kept him alert and energised._

_“You’ve broken the law. Time to pay the price,” the captain said sternly through the roar of the rain. “If you didn’t want to be caught, perhaps you shouldn’t have broken it.”_

_“Fuck you!” he spat. “Fuck you, you shit-eating bastard!”_

_“Eloquent, isn’t he?” the captain commented to his men. His was the only eyes that didn’t waver, not for a second._

_It drove the cornered man to distraction. Why had he left his rifle? His dagger? A good lot running had done. “If you take another fucking step, I’ll stick this in your pretty little face and twist it so hard you’ll look like a child’s fucking picture drawing,” he snarled._

_The captain, to his utter fury, laughed. “Hear that, lads? He thinks I’m pretty. I’m flattered, being complimented by a common little street thug like yourself.”_

_He stared at him, in shock. This man had the audacity to laugh at him? He was asking for death, surely? His expression darkened, and it was this that caused him to swing out at the nearest soldier, glass bottle in hand and eyes blazing. It was his fatal mistake. The moment he let his body become exposed the captain lunged. It was too fast for his tired mind. The captain had kicked him to the floor, the boot in his stomach enough to wind him and render him harmless to the rest of the company. Half-blinded by the rain, he had also missed his original target; instead, he had given a glancing blow to the unfortunate soldier’s chest. With a surprised cry the man clutched a hand to the wounds and staggered backwards._

_“He got him, he got him!” his friends shouted. Some looked ready to murder the being that dared to attack their fellow._

_“Calm down, take him to the infirmary. Quickly!” the captain barked. “Zacharius, you stay with me. We need to make sure this little shit doesn’t get away after pulling a stunt like that.”_

_He struggled. He knew it was futile, but he struggled. He kicked and snarled and snapped like a tethered dog at the men that grabbed him and wrestled him into submission. “Bastards!” he shouted. “Kos okht ile nafadak!”_

_‘Fuck he who brought you to this life’._

Levi sighed. He noticed that his mare was staring at him again, and washed a hand across his face. Eifa knew that language. That narrowed down where he came from, and what gang he had run with. For, clearly, he had run with a gang of sorts; no normal street thug was so willing to fight rehabilitation. The underground gangs had ways of communicating with each other, and other languages always tended to help matters. A common criminal wasn’t going to know any language other than his mother tongue. Levi let his hand drop from her side and leant against the opposite side of the stall, a huff escaping him.

“You’ve been thinking again.”

He flinched away from the voice, his mind hurtling back down to the present with some force. He rubbed the back of his neck, and muttered, “I have a brain, of course I use it from time to time.”

Erwin was leaning over the stable door, a small smile on his face. Levi wondered how long he’d been there. “You know what I mean.” The warmth of the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. There was something else there.

Levi huffed again. “It was all the riding this morning. It tired me.”

“Not enough for you to go straight to your quarters and rest,” Erwin observed. He put a hand on the curious nose of the mare, tickling it gently.

Levi glowered at him. “When you begin to be my mother, I will be sure to let you know.”

“ _Levi._ ”

The dangerous tone. That was a voice that he rarely heard. Levi rolled his eyes. “What do you want?”

“I want to know what spooked you earlier.” Erwin frowned. “What went on between you and that recruit.”

Levi threw his brush down into the straw and focused on Erwin properly. “Prying isn’t polite, you know,” he said in clipped tones.

“Don’t make me order you, Levi.” Erwin’s hand fell from the mare’s nose. “I’m just concerned, that’s all. It takes a lot to rile you. Well,” he reconsidered, “aside from Nile.”

“That man is the most vile human being I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting, and you know it.” Levi folded his arms and regarded Erwin through narrowed eyes. “Let me get this straight. You want me to tell you of my own accord, but if I don’t, you’ll order me anyway? Doesn’t seem like much of an incentive, does it?”

Erwin straightened up, smiling. “Now that sounds like something I heard earlier.”

_The smirk. The defiance. “Well, that’s really no incentive for revealing it then, is it?”_

Levi’s eyes narrowed further. “What are you insinuating?”

“That something’s going on, and I want to get to the bottom of it.” Erwin paused. “Do you know him?”

Levi hesitated. “No. I’ve never seen the brat before in my life.”

“Then what?”

Levi shrugged. What was the point in dredging up the past? The point in admitting that when he looked at the boy, he only saw himself? It was a foolish admission, and it was nothing Erwin needed to hear. “It doesn’t matter,” he said.

Erwin sighed, giving up. “Alright. Want to tell me what he said to you?”

Levi stiffened. “What?”

“Don’t play dumb. I heard him. He spoke in another language, and whatever he said to you it turned you whiter than snow. What did he say?”

Levi debated, for a moment, on lying to Erwin. To making something up, on saying that it was nothing, just a mismatch of jumbled words. But he knew it would be pointless; Erwin was no idiot. He walked over to the stable door, his expression neutral as he replied, “he called me a traitor.”

Erwin let him out wordlessly, clearly full of thought, and as Levi shut and bolted it securely he said, “Why would he call you that?”

Levi gave him a slightly amused look. “The funny thing is, Erwin, when you switch sides, it _tends_ to piss people off,” he answered sarcastically.

“You didn’t do so of your own accord,” Erwin replied. Levi’s eyes drifted to the other man’s chest despite himself. “You definitely didn’t do that- you fought us all the way.”

“Tell that to the people I left behind. All they saw was a scraggly little fuck-up go in the doors one way and emerge as Lance Corporal a few years later. They didn’t see how violently I struggled.” He sighed. “It barely matters. The boy’s too young to know me personally, even if I don’t know him. My entire group was taken care of the night I was captured.” He picked up the bridle from the door and gave the mare a farewell pat before striding towards the courtyard. Erwin matched him stride for stride.

“I was told that the others were rounded up and killed.” Erwin glanced down at him. “Is that true?”

Levi almost stopped as the thought overtook him. His mind conjured up images of his gang, his friends, struggling against the soldiers with the hollow fear of animals in their eyes. And then the gleeful wails of the Titans on the other side of the Wall, hearing the sounds of bloodshed. He shut his eyes and shook his head, trying to rid himself of the faces that danced before his face. Why was he remembering them now? He grimaced and gave the bridle to a passing recruit, thrusting it into his chest. “Put it away,” he ordered. The recruit bolted inside the stables to carry out the order, and Erwin watched their progress with a frown. Levi met Erwin’s gaze and nodded curtly. “Yes. They killed everyone they found.”

Erwin sighed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to dredge up your past.”

“You did a pretty poor job of hiding it.” Levi held out a hand to stop Erwin from apologising again. “It’s fine. I just haven’t thought about them for a while, that’s all.”

“Eifa’s triggered it, huh?”

Levi looked out across the courtyard, at the happily chatting recruits attending to their chores. He lowered his head. “I suppose so.” He turned to Erwin then, his eyes cold once more. “I need to see to my squad. If you want me, I’ll be with them.” He broke off, his eyes cast to the ground as he walked away into the clammy interior of the Headquarters, a pent up sigh suddenly escaping him in one large rush. He needed to throw himself into something medial, something meaningless. Anything to forget the dark, the rain, the snarling boy who had fire in his lungs…

“Levi!”

He didn’t turn around. “Commander, I’m busy.”

“You can come to me. To talk, I mean.”

Levi turned around then, and raised a brow. “What?”

“If you want to. I might not be able to relate, but I can try to listen.” Erwin looked earnest, a boyish look surfacing underneath the hardened man, and it wrong-footed Levi a little. “I want to understand.”

Levi paused. And then he smiled. “Big words for the guy I stabbed on our first meeting.”

Erwin laughed. “You missed, remember.”

“Yes, I did,” Levi said, turning on his heel and striding away in search of his squad. “Couldn’t ruin that fucking pretty face of yours,” he added under his breath.


	4. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Eifa thinks of escape, Jean is an awkward dork and Marco saves the day like the freckles jesus that he is. Fun all around!
> 
> I think the split narrative thing works rather well, so I have a feeling I'll keep it this way. Buttt you never know, fanfics are changeable. Woop, a chapter with Jean this time! Levi will come back, but for now I'm focusing on the kiddiwinks and Eifa.

Eifa didn’t waste any time. The moment Shadis disappeared from view, he set about planning his escape. He was pushed unceremoniously by his guards into a small room that was furnished modestly. It would have been nice if it weren’t for the cobwebs brimming with fat spiders that leered down at him from every nook and cranny of the room. There was no oil for the tired lamp that rested on a bedside table that was patterned in a sickly way; when Eifa examined it more closely, he recoiled on finding it was mould. He cringed. “Nice place you have here,” he muttered. He turned back to the faceless soldiers and shook his chains at them. “Am I gonna wear these as accessories now? That’s gonna be hard when I’m training, you know.”

“Nice try. We’re under orders of Shadis. The chains stay.”

“But surely-”

“The chains. Stay. **_Criminal_**.” The last word was spat at him like a curse, and Eifa glared at them.

“So quick to judge,” he tutted. “I wonder, if you were in the same position as me, would you have been brave enough to fight back?”

“I’m not talking ethics and morality with the likes of you,” the other soldier sneered. “C’mon Aubrey, we’ll be late for lunch.”

Eifa smirked. “Now, that sounds heavenly. I’ll have smoked haddock on a bed of lettuce, if you have it.” The slam of the door was his only response. He huffed. “Plebians,” he muttered, walking back to the moth-eaten straw bed and staring down at it. He hadn’t slept in a bed for years, so that was barely a problem; if there were bugs in it, which he was sure there would be, they could take it for their lodgings for all he cared. He gave the bed-frame an experimental kick, but it stood firm. “At least it’s not falling to fucking pieces,” he said to himself. He crossed the room to the window and peered out of it. There were no bars on the pane, seeing as the room wasn’t accustomed to harbouring a criminal within its walls, and it set him thinking. He pushed the bedside table into position underneath it and levered himself up onto it, but found that it was just out of reach. He huffed. He would need to jump to get there, and even then he wasn’t sure if the window was large enough to fit through. He was in no way a particularly tall or broad person, but he certainly wasn’t a six year old girl.

Ignoring the bed, he sank to the floor next to it, his back against the wall sending a chill through his body. His chains jingled together like small chapel bells tolling for worshippers, and Eifa let out a husky sigh. The blows both Levi and Shadis had dealt him were now beginning to return with a vengeance, and at every move some part of him wailed in pain. He gritted his teeth against it. The pain was nothing; it was the people who had delivered it that made his injuries hurt all the more. Levi had no right to touch him; he had no right to even mention his name. He had lost that right years ago, when Eifa was little more than an infant and the _incident_ had occurred. Shadis didn’t bother him; commanders threw their weight around with everyone, it was easy to see that. But _Levi…_.

His hands moulded into fists as he sat there, and in a lightning movement the bedside table twitched backwards as he punched it from sheer frustration. He was not meant to end his days here, sitting in the dark waiting for death at every turn, and certainly not as young as he was. His fist throbbed with the abuse he’d dealt it, but it was a pain he barely felt. How old had Levi been when he had run to the Corps with his tail between his legs? Eighteen? Twenty? Older than Eifa was now, at least, and maybe even wiser. Eifa had been one of the lucky ones. He had escaped. Many others were trapped, with no such luck. His mother had told him that the two of them were ‘blessed by the gods’ for making it out alive, but Eifa knew better.

His faith was lost that day, a faith that he would never have the comfort in knowing. He was a tender four year old boy that realised the old gods he had been told to revere and love were long since dead and didn’t care for _him_ , the single boy that stood pouring his heart out to the rare scraps of daylight. He learnt the stories afterwards of course, growing up, but that didn’t mean he had to believe them. He pretended to, to please his mother, but once she died he let the pretence fall away like a veil. It was only now, when he sat chained and hurting, that he let his mind fall to them. He shut his eyes and whispered snatches of old prayer he remembered, but he was jerked back to his senses with a thud at the door.

“Stop with that muttering!” a voice shouted in. “Casting dark magic, are you? You could be tried for witchcraft as well as murder.”

Eifa sniggered. “Hardly. You should know better than to immediately leap to that conclusion.”

“Just keep your mouth shut.”

“Is the sound of my voice really that terrifying?” he asked, eyes flashing in the gloom.

“I said keep it shut!”

Eifa gave a snort like an irritated horse and drew his knees up to his chest with protest from his aching muscles. “Whatever.” He hadn’t known that Shadis had set up guards at his door; they really were making him a top priority. They really didn’t want him escaping, even though it would be so much easier for them if he did. They wouldn’t have to bother fighting against him for the duration of the ‘training’. They wouldn’t have to keep this ridiculous watch on him. It would be one less mouth to feed. It all seemed so simple. He could strike a deal with Shadis, slip away quietly. He chuckled to himself. The very thought of being able to talk civilly to the Commander was a laughable. The minute he was out of his chains, he decided, he would do anything in his power to resist Shadis and the powers that be that had put him in this place. He wouldn’t succumb to their lies like Levi had.

He didn’t realise he had fallen asleep until he was woken up hours later by the sound of heavy footfalls outside his room. His entire body seized up, his ears sharpening to the talk outside though his mind tried the sleepily catch up.

“It’s alright, you can leave now,” one voice said. “Shadis doesn’t think that he’ll be any trouble tonight. You deserve to rest.”

“Ugh, thank the Wall. I was about to die of hunger.” There was a pause. “Speaking of hunger…”

“No. Shadis doesn’t want him fed tonight.” The voice was harsh, cold, and Eifa silently cursed Shadis. Damn him. Damn him and thinking that starvation was the way to get him controlled. As if on cue, his stomach gurgled like a small animal. There was a pause in the conversation then, and Eifa waited patiently. Sure enough, the two men continued in lowered voices.

“He’s only a kid, I wish they’d give him a break,” the second man said. He sounded tired.

“He killed people, Burne!”

“Still. No fourteen year old kid deserves to be kicked around and then locked up like a prisoner.”

“He _is_ a prisoner. Technically, anyway. You’re so dense.”

“Shut up, you beanpole, and go to bed. Your sweetheart’s had enough of you for one evening.” There was a chuckle and the slapping of backs, before the footfalls and slowly dimming banter suggested that they had walked away.

Eifa lifted his head. They had left him alone. He gave the Shadis in his head an intelligence that the real one lacked. It was always nice to be surprised. He rose to his feet and walked the brief distance to the door slowly, scarcely believing his luck. Perhaps the dead gods really were smiling upon him. He rested his head against the wood-grain of the door, thinking. There had to be a way of picking the lock… his eyes spotted something glinting in the limited light from the porch outside, and as he scrambled for it on the cold floor of his room his eyes lit up. It was a hairpin, dropped by one of the maids who had gotten the room ready no doubt. It was an easy thing to lose. He brought the pin to his lips and kissed it, his face splitting into a smile.

+++

_“What did you just wipe on me?!”_

_“My faith in humanity.”_

Granted, he could have possibly been less melodramatic about that one, but Jean Kirstein really _did_ feel like it was the end of the world. How could that stunning girl, that beautiful, stoic girl with the ebony hair have her feelings embedded in such a… such a…

Well, he wasn’t sure _what_ he was. An idiot? Probably. A hothead? Definitely. But there wasn’t really a single word to describe the boy known as Eren Jaeger. The only thing he did know was that he wasn’t going to be getting on with him any time soon.

His annoyance had led him away from the mess hall and out into the night, his hands shoved stubbornly into his pockets and a glare etched onto his face. The first day had taken a lot out of him. He didn’t know what he’d expected; certainly not the punch to the gut and the stream of abuse he’d got. Had he been arrogant enough to think that he would be hailed a hero the second he got there? He huffed to himself. He didn’t need to be a hero to get to the Military Police- he just needed to get into the top 10. He was sure he could do that no problem- so long as he didn’t end up killing any of his fellow recruits. And at the moment, the thought of murdering Eren Jaeger was becoming more and more appealing.

He kicked a loose stone across the training field and heard it hit a cabin nearby. He winced. Nobody would be sleeping already, he hoped. But that was the girl’s dorm.

He made a beeline for the other direction just in case, an encounter with the fairer sex really _not_ what he needed right now after crashing and burning with Mikasa. The very thought made him blush to the roots of his hair, and he growled at his own reaction. _Fucking hormones could go die in a well._ He was bad enough around people anyway, and hitting puberty had just made it all so much worse. Jean had wanted to meet friends here, friends who would follow him into the Police and become his comrades in arms. However, he hadn’t met anyone who seemed over the moon to be in his presence yet, so he supposed that that was that and there was no hope for him. That was, after all, what friendship was, wasn’t it?

He frowned. That sounded wrong somehow, but what did he know? He didn’t exactly have experience with this sort of thing. Still, he wasn’t too worried; he was a lone wolf, and too many people around him made his head hurt. His father told him he got that from his mother. Then she would shoot him a venomous look that Jean had also inherited.

He sighed, stopping in his walk to glance up at the night sky. He hadn’t been away from them for long before. How long would it take for him to start missing them, he wondered. He was no momma’s boy, but he was sure to miss them eventually- right? Everyone did. At least, he hoped they did, otherwise he’d feel like a top class idiot.

At that moment, something fluttered past his vision like the wings of a bird. Jean stopped in his tracks and frowned. The Something fluttered through the shadows of the cabins, and swept out away from them. Whatever it was, it was too large to be some sort of stray cat or dog that wandered in for scraps- did that even happen? He knew it was probably against his better judgement to follow the Something, but Jean did it anyway. He walked away from the cabins with a degree of caution, still unaware of whether or not it was some larger animal that was dangerous and prone to biting. He fought to keep his nerve, though a niggling feeling of anxiety was beginning to rise in his chest. He bit it back almost physically. A noise to the right of him startled him so much he had to fight to control his racing breath. He cursed himself as he clutched his chest, continuing on. Some brave knight he was going to turn out to be. If he was going to die of fright from nothing in particular, how was he going to stand up to the Titans? He gulped.

“Oi!” he shouted out to the darkness. “Anyone there?” He wasn’t sure if the Something would reply to him, but it made him feel a little better at least. A dull thud caught his ear from the very back of the training camp, and Jean turned towards the noise, calling out again. “Hey, if that’s someone pissing about it’s not funny!” he shouted. For a moment, the figure of Jaeger swam into his vision, mocking and sneering. Jean wouldn’t be surprised if it was the boy’s design; he seemed the type to do anything to ruin someone’s reputation, even though Jean had only known him a matter of hours. He was the type who could be read like a book.

Another thud was the only response to his words. He moved forwards again, almost totally eclipsed by the darkness. The lamps didn’t reach this part of the camp, and for good reason; there was nothing here but a giant fence. The rock formation the camp nestled against rose up now to dizzying heights, and there was nothing over the other side of the fence but a sheer drop and a mountainside. There was no need for it to be guarded, he guessed. But the thud had definitely come from there, and the Something was probably right over there too. Jean debated on going back, on ignoring it and just going to bed and pretending the entire day had never happened. But still, something kept him walking forwards. Once he was completely covered in darkness he was forced to squint to get a sense of anything, and as his gaze swept along the expanse of fence, it locked onto something that appeared to be scrabbling for a foothold halfway up. He frowned. It definitely wasn’t an animal- it had to be a person. But who was stupid enough to try to climb a pointless fence?

He cleared his throat. “Hey.”

The Something spun around wildly, and Jean saw a glint of blue eyes before it hissed, “Get the fuck away.”

He blinked. “Hello to you, too.”

“Just fuck off.”

Jean’s fear seemed to vanish, like he’d taken off an extremely heavy coat. He left it in the dust as he tilted his head quizzically at the figure. “Whatcha doin’?” he asked. “Evening stroll?”

“What does it fucking look like, asshole?” The figure had begun to climb again, clearly choosing to ignore Jean instead of throw more colourful insults at him.

Jean smirked. “Looks like a waste of time, if you ask me.”

The eyes turned back to him and narrowed to slits. “Did I ask for your opinion?”

“You clearly need it. There’s a sheer drop on the other side. All you’re doing is throwing yourself to your death.” Jean stepped closer, folding his arms against the sudden cold that steeped through him. The light had a warming influence, and the shadows were also beginning to make him nervous again. He didn’t know what had given him such confidence, but it was a nice change. “You’re that prisoner, right? The murderer?” he inquired.

“If that’s what you want to call me.” The climbing resumed.

“What would you call yourself?” Jean asked, frowning.

“A survivor,” was the curt response.

“A survivor who’s about to kill himself from jumping off a fence?” Jean said sceptically. He snorted. “Smart.”

The figure wheeled around, the movement so sharp it almost lost them their footing. “If I were down there I swear to all the gods in existence I would slit your sorry throat.”

Jean blanched. His new-found confidence seemed to run away with its tail between its legs. “It’s a good job you’re up there, then, heh,” he said, a hand rising up to caress his throat regardless. His hand was trembling. “I-if you don’t want to listen to advice, then-”

“Why would I listen to advice from you? You know nothing about the world, Jean Kirstein of Trost, and it’s going to stay that way.”

Jean winced at the way his name was pronounced. It sounded sharp, alien, and somewhat spiked coming out of a criminal’s mouth. Still, he remembered him from the training earlier? Great, that was never going to leave him, was it? His stomach still hurt. He sighed. “It’s ‘Jean’. French, you know.” He squinted up at the figure again. “Y-you’re Eifa, aren’t you?”

“I’m leaving.”

“N-no, don’t!” Jean said, darting forwards- though what he was planning on doing he had no idea. He couldn’t exactly catch the idiot from there. “Look, you want to survive, right? Well you’re not going to if you keep on climbing! I swear, there’s nothing over there!” He had no idea what he was doing. He had never talked anyone down before- most of the people he knew back home were _too_ cheerful if anything- and he was sure that he would say one wrong phrase and Eifa would fly over the top of the fence and that was it. He didn’t know why he cared so much, but the thought of having to scrape off the remains of convict jam from the rocks below might have been one of the reasons. His stomach lurched at that. Uck. Grim.

There was a pause. “And how am I meant to trust that?” Eifa replied.

Jean fell short at that. He paused, thinking madly for an excuse, a reason, anything at all. He gave in, finding nothing. “I guess you’ll just have to trust your instinct,” he shrugged. He had never been so aware of his skin before- it was ice cold, but his insides were burning with fear. The two lay next to each other and felt so wrong, but he kept himself from trembling this time and continued to look upwards, his eyes never leaving Eifa’s form where he hung from his last hold. Jean gulped. “A-and besides- you’re not proving anything to the Commander if you’re just going to take the easy way out.”

That triggered movement. Eifa was a little more noticeable now in the unshielded moonlight, and his fists clenched. “What makes you think I have to prove anything to anyone? You piece of shit, who do you think you are?” he snapped.

“N-nobody, I was just saying!” Jean said, panicked. This wasn’t going so well. “You clearly want to prove him wrong”, he explained, trying to keep calm. “And that little short-ass that kicked you into the next decade, too. Jeez, was _he_ an asshole.”

“You have no idea.” There was a hint of humour in the reply, and Jean let himself hope that maybe his rambling trip to nowhere was actually getting _some_ where. There was silence for a moment, and Jean could almost feel the ripples of thought going through the other boy as he hung there. Then the muffled words came, “if you’re lying…”

“What would I lie for?” Jean called up. “Your guess is as good as mine. I just figure if you want to survive, your best bet is to stick around.”

The form was still for a moment. But then, to Jean’s relief and surprise, Eifa began to make his way back down the fence towards him. He’d been… listened to? Was he really _that_ good at talking to people? Clearly not good enough to talk to girls, but hey, that came with experience he guessed… he _hoped…_

Eifa jumped down from the last foot or so, landing sprightly on his feet with barely a tremor. The boy was clearly used to leaping like that; no doubt something to do with running away from trouble. His eyes met Jean’s, and Jean swore that there was a hidden smile in them, as if he was somehow grateful that someone cared enough to talk to him.

“Hey, Jean! What’re you doing over there?”

The bright voice made both Jean and Eifa freeze. Jean recognised the voice from earlier- it was the freckled kid. Marco, was it? He turned around to see him stood on the border where the light failed. He had changed out of his training uniform like Jean, and appeared far more comfortable in his loose-fitting shirt and black trousers. He looked confused, but in a pleasant sort of way, as if it was no inconvenience to him. It was almost patient, like a father waiting for his child to explain himself.

“N-nothing, I’m doing nothing!” Jean replied.

It was too late. Marco chuckled and stepped into the darkness. “Nothing? Really? You expect me to believe tha- oh.” He stopped dead as an arm wrapped around Jean’s throat and dragged him backwards.

“Don’t come any closer or I’ll wring his neck,” Eifa hissed venomously. Jean gulped. Only seconds before he’d thought he’d seen a smile on the boy’s face, and now he was being squeezed by the throat.

_Oh, great. Oh well, life was almost a gift. So long, adulthood._

“Er, hey there, I’m Marco,” Marco said. He didn’t seem fazed at all, and that was sending Jean into a fit of panic. Didn’t this guy know what the other boy was capable of?! One wrong move and Jean would befall the same fate as a Christmas turkey, and he was exchanging niceties? “I saw you in training. Look, I’m not going to hurt you- as if you’d let me, right? You’d have me on my back sooner than I could blink.” He was still smiling.

The grip on Jean loosened a little, but when he tried to pull away it tightened back again. He coughed out a ‘please stop’ but Eifa did nothing. “You kept watching me during training today. Why?” Eifa demanded, his attention on Marco despite Jean’s attempts to squirm away.

Marco shrugged. “People who are interesting catch my attention, I guess. I bet you could teach me a thing or two.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Well, we’ll all be fighting Titans at some point- we might as well all be equipped with the same skills, don’t you agree?” Marco tilted his head to one side, a frown crossing his face. “Though I don’t think strangling Jean is really going to help right now.”

Eifa made a questioning noise, then a small “oh” as he released Jean, who was close to turning blue. He dropped to his knees wheezing, his lungs sucking in precious air like it was the sweetest thing he ever tasted.

“Jeez, that’s the last time I save your ass,” he managed to hiss through pants.

Eifa ignored him. For the moment, so did Marco, though Jean noticed the other boy relax a little more. He had been scared, he realised- he was just very good at covering it up. “I also thought that the Commander was treating you pretty poorly,” Marco said, softer now. “I didn’t think it was fair. You’re here, you’re training, just like us. Your record shouldn’t enter into it.”

Eifa snickered. “I’m a murderer.”

“And now you’re a soldier.” Marco shrugged again. “It shouldn’t matter. Oh! I forgot!” He brought a small loaf of bread from his jacket pocket and held it out to Eifa, who eyed it suspiciously. “I was going to see if I could sneak you one. I didn’t know if they were going to feed you, and…well… nobody should train on an empty stomach!”

Jean stared at Marco almost as disbelievingly as Eifa. Was this kid for real? Honestly? No one could ever be _this_ nice, could they? Eifa frowned at the gesture of friendship, as though he’d never been offered it before. “Why do you care?” he asked in a smaller voice.

Marco’s smile was sadder this time. “Bullying is bullying no matter where you go or who does it. Eat.”

Eifa took the bread cautiously, still coiled like a spring in case it was some sort of trap, but when all Marco did was smile encouragingly he tore into it with the ferocity of a wild dog, the small groans of appreciation hanging in the air above him. Jean looked incredulously at Marco, whose smile had wavered a little whilst he watched the older boy devour the bread like it was the finest food he’d ever eaten.  “You’d be dead if the Commander saw you take that!” Jean hissed.

Marco seemed ridiculously calm about it. “What’s the worst he could have done?”

“You saw what happened to the potato girl! She had to run until she dropped!” Jean said. The thought of having to do that made his legs whimper.

“Small price to pay.” Marco glanced to Eifa now, who was finishing off the last remnants of the bread. He smiled again. “Do you want some water? Connie has some back in the dorms.”

Eifa debated on it for a moment, before shaking his head. “I’m fine. I don’t think they would want me there.”

“You’d be surprised. Connie and Thomas wouldn’t shut up about you earlier. You’ve got everyone curious,” Marco said.

“I sincerely hope that the curiosity dies soon,” Eifa said. “I’d hate to be a distraction.” Jean sensed a double meaning to those words, but couldn’t quite figure out what they were. The other boy still looked wary of them both, as though their kindness and concern was going to fall away to something much more sinister before too long, and for some reason that made Jean angry. How the hell had this guy been brought up to suspect everyone like this?

Marco seemed to think the same, for the smile had fallen. “What are you two doing out here anyway?” he said, opting for a subject change.

Eifa glanced back to the fence and smirked. “I guess I just got talked down.”

“You were trying to climb that?” Marco said, his eyes widening as they flicked over to the impressively tall fencing. “Wow. You must really hate it here.”

“Well, it’s not exactly paradise, is it?”

“Well, you could be dead right about now, hanging from a gallows somewhere.” Marco’s eyes widened as he saw Eifa cast his gaze downwards and quickly backtracked. “Ah! I’m sorry, that was morbid, I didn’t mean to-”

“No,” Eifa said, looking back up and sighing. “No, you’re… you’re right. Guess it could be worse.”

Marco’s response was drowned out by a hollering command from Shadis from the porch of his own abode. “Lights out, ladies! If we see any of your sorry carcasses you will be subjected to the harshest punishment available!” His roaring voice made all three of them jump.

Jean’s lip curled in distaste. He hadn’t had a curfew in his life, and the thought of having to be in bed at a specific hour for the next two years was really grating on him. Despite that though, he really _didn’t_ want to wait around and see what sort of punishment Shadis would have in store for them. He especially didn’t want the humiliation that would come with it. He looked expectantly between the two others, waiting. “You coming, Freckles?” he asked Marco. The other boy’s nose wrinkled at the nickname, and for a horrifying moment Jean thought he had deeply insulted him. But then the smile was back.

“Sure. I don’t want the Commander on my back.” He paused. “Eifa, you’re going back to your room, right?”

It was a loaded question, and it hovered between the three of them for a while in an almost solid form. It only vanished when Eifa let out a pent up sigh. “I suppose so. Where else can I go?”

Jean let a smile quirk at his mouth. Eifa wasn’t really as bad as he’d thought- aside from the grabbing him by the neck and the casual insults, of course. He just seemed interesting, and he could understand why Connie was going on about him like he was some big celebrity. “Well then. Er, this was… different. I’ll, uh, see you in training then, I guess.” He went to pat Eifa’s shoulder, but the way the boy froze up made him think twice. He didn’t want to have his arm ripped out of its socket because of a silly knee-jerk reaction of Eifa’s. Instead he just saluted ( _lame, Kirstein, lame_ ) before sauntering away, an attempt to be suave that he knew probably failed magnificently at. There was something going on behind those blue eyes of his, and Jean wasn’t quite sure what that something was. One thing was for sure, he wanted to find out.

“Hey, Jean?”

“Mmm?” He’d momentarily forgotten about Marco. The other boy jogged to reach his side, and kept pace with him on the walk back.

“He doesn’t seem so bad, does he?”

Jean smiled. At least it wasn’t just him who seemed to have sympathy for Eifa. “Nah. He seems cool,” he said, trying to be offhand. What he was actually thinking was _God, someone’s talking to me, you cannot mess this up Kirschtein, not again!_

“Yeah… hey, I think you’ve been assigned the same dorm as me. That’s why I came to find you, sort of.” Marco smiled bashfully. “I wondered what bed you wanted.”

Jean shrugged, his mind still screaming at him to remain nonchalant and calm. “I don’t care. Knock yourself out picking.”

“So… I can have the top bunk?” There was a childish excitement to his voice that made Jean chuckle. Marco was nice. He liked Marco. How would he make friends with him, though? Was there a secret code? “Oh, by the way- I hope you don’t snore, or I’ll have to shove a pillow in your mouth!” Marco said, cutting in on Jean’s train of thought. He smiled brightly at him, and it was all Jean could do to stop himself from throwing his arms around Marco’s neck and thanking him to heaven that he was making this friends thing so easy.

Instead, he just grinned and nudged him playfully with his shoulder. “You can try, Bodt. You can sure as hell try.”

+++

The sound of keys the next morning woke Eifa from his fitful sleep. He had dreamt of fences and freckles and undercuts, and though they were not the stuff of nightmares they had kept his mind occupied, racing through the night on auto-pilot whilst he tried to rest. He had had no such luck. He hadn’t slept well that night, and was in an extremely bad mood because of it.

He scrambled to his feet immediately, his body preparing for a fight or flight response, but when nothing happened he remained standing, trying to make out the figure who stood in his doorway. “Can I help you?” he sneered. “You know, I would _love_ to have visitors, but I don’t have the proper things for company.”

“Still as witty as ever.” The voice belonged to Shadis. Eifa bristled. “You are an interesting creature. Your spirit’s quite the fighting one.”

“My mother always was a dab hand at boxing. I guess she passed it on.”

Shadis chose to ignore the comment. “I came for your word.”

“Here’s two: bite me,” Eifa snarled.

“I will be honest with you, street rat. I don’t want you here. The board doesn’t want you here. I doubt the Military Police want you here. But here you are, and here you will stay until I see fit to release you upon graduation- or earlier, should you fail.” The promise was cold and unyielding, and a thrill of fear was sent up Eifa’s spine. “I am willing to work with you, on one condition. I want your word that you will not direct any violent actions towards the other recruits,” Shadis said.

“That depends on if the other recruits direct any violent actions towards me.” Eifa folded his arms, business-like. “If I am attacked, _sir_ , I will defend myself,” he stated, cringing at the word ‘sir’. When did he start using that?

Shadis’ expression deepened. “The training depends on your cooperation with the recruits. You will have to work with them, not against them. Are you willing to do that?”

Eifa’s folded arms tightened around him.

Was he willing to do that? Well, that really was the question.

 He thought back to the line-up of fresh faces: the blonde boy with the bad name, the skinny well to-doer with his big plan he now knew to be Jean, and the freckled one who cared too much that he knew as Marco. Then he recalled a handful of others with vengeance in their eyes and fire in their hearts.

He thought about it.

Then, he nodded.


End file.
